Beyond the Horizon
by falafel-fiction
Summary: Between his memories of Desmond on the freighter and his visits from Charlie in the future Sayid resolves to break free from Ben and return to the island to rescue his friends. A sequel story to 'The Musician' in two parts.
1. Chapter 1

**Beyond the Horizon**

**Summary**: Between his memories of Desmond on the freighter and his visits from Charlie in the future Sayid resolves to break free from Ben and return to the island to rescue his friends. A sequel story to 'The Musician' in two parts. Also an entry for charlielives challenge #4: Future Charlie.

**Characters**: Sayid, Charlie, Ben and Desmond with mentions of Nadia and various Lostees.

**Rating**: PG-13

**Disclaimer**: Would you believe it, I still don't own Lost.

**Warnings**: Spoilers up to S4, ep8 and the rest is pure speculation.

**Dedication**: This fic is for elliotsmelliot who I would credit with pulling me back into the realm of lostfanfic when I was seriously ready to throw in the towel. Thank you for all your wonderful stories which have shown how you can still be fabulously original and inventive within the often frustrating borderlines of canon. Please keep writing, hon!

* * *

**Foreword**: This is a sequel to my one-shot FF fic called The Musician (which you may want to read first if you haven't already). In this story Ben sent Sayid on an assignment to kill an unknown musician who turns out to be Charlie - the same Charlie who visits Hurley in Santa Rosa. The Charlie who features in this story is indeed dead, but he is also 'here' in a manner that is real, existing, corporeal and practically living for reasons that will be explained in Part Two. All I will reveal for now is that Charlie is not the island. He is Charlie himself, but he may have some communion with the island and have harnessed its unique properties.

Just to clarify the setting and timeline of this story; my prequel _The Musician_ takes place a few weeks before the business with Elsa in Berlin. The following story _Beyond the Horizon_ comes directly after the events of 'The Economist' flash forward. Ben and Sayid travel back to Los Angeles and Charlie's flat is located on the outskirts of that city. Since Charlie has a corporeal presence in this I've decided that he needs to be (physically) in the same location as Hurley in order to pay him visits.

Now on with the story…

Beyond the Horizon

_  
Los Angeles, 2007…_

Sayid sat on the living room rug, a mug of tea between his palms and a plate of biscuits on the low table before him. Charlie was sprawling on the couch, his guitar draped over his lap and his fingers strumming a dreamy melody. The music transported Sayid back to the island and those long sun-drenched afternoons he had spent building beach shelters to the soft accompaniment of Charlie's whispery chords. And not only that. Within this song Sayid could see the face of Danielle Rousseau as she listened to her music box. He could hear the elegant voice of Shannon singing to him in French. He could recall the evening when he and Hurley had listened to _'Moonlight Serenade' _on the radio he had repaired. Between the music and his memories the island seemed like a realm of serenity that he longed to return to.

Sayid had flown back from Germany with his boss earlier that day. After landing in the States Ben had instructed him to take some rest and allow his bullet wound to heal so that he would be rejuvenated and prepared for his next mission. Despite his exhaustion and jetlag Sayid had found sleep to be impossible. Lying awake he had contemplated how Charlie, the Musician on Ben's hit list, had offered to help him. In the back of his mind Sayid doubted that his encounter with Charlie Pace had been real. Surely it must have been some delusion brought on by the stress and anxiety of his work. But close to midnight Sayid had pulled on his jacket and returned to the musician's shabby apartment on the outskirts of the city.

Charlie welcomed him into his flat with a breezy smile and immediately put the kettle on to boil. He rummaged his cupboards for biscuits, apologising that he didn't have much of a selection. He announced that there were only two chocolate digestives left but that Sayid could have both of them.

After handing him these refreshments Charlie returned to the couch, saying that there was a song he needed to finish, but after that they would talk. Sayid waited patiently, watching as Charlie's quick tough fingers picked away at his guitar strings. Sayid had always thought he was good with his hands, but he had never learned how to play an instrument. He envied Charlie's skill to issue sweet music from a piece of wood while for so many years Sayid had used his own hands to wrench screaming confessions from vulnerable human bodies. He wished that there was some way he could _create_ but fate had moulded him into a destroyer.

Eventually Charlie's song drew to a close. He placed his guitar back into its case and crossed his legs on the couch cushions, looking like a cheerful little leprechaun who might be sitting on a pot of gold. Sayid wanted desperately to ask how it was possible for Charlie to be here when he was dead. But something in Charlie's eyes warned him not to speak this question, either because it wasn't something he could freely reveal or because it wasn't what was important right now.

"How's Hurley?" asked Sayid, thinking of nothing else to say.

"Better," Charlie said encouragingly. "Well, he still thinks he's raving lunatic, but at least he doesn't tell me to go away anymore. He says I'm nicer than his last imaginary friend. He lets me sit with him at the picnic tables and we paint landscapes together. Earlier this week he told me that he's sick of hiding." He smiled triumphantly. "Hurley won't be in the nuthouse for much longer…"

"He took your passing hard," Sayid remarked, their conversation still feeling absurd to him. "I think he has been missing you terribly."

"Oh man, I missed him too," said Charlie. "I've never had a better friend than Hurley. Though lately I've had my hands full with Jack..."

Sayid blinked in surprise. "You're visiting Jack too?"

"Oh yeah. Jack needs help. The daft bugger has got himself hooked on a nasty little prescription drug called Oxycodone." Charlie shook his head disapprovingly. "On the streets they call it 'hillbilly heroin'..."

Sayid swallowed. There had been rumblings in the media about how Jack Sheppard of the Oceanic 6 had abandoned a suicide attempt to rescue a family from a car wreak. He had been aware of Jack's downward spiral for a while now, but Sayid was still shocked to learn that the doctor was abusing medicinal opiates.

"If Jack is addicted to a morphine-based drug then I suppose you are the best person to help him," Sayid said considerately. He raised an eyebrow. "Though I dread to think how he is responding to your presence…"

Charlie was already smirking. "Oh, he took me for a hallucination at first. I told him that I was there to help with his drug problem and he just giggled manically like I was being cute. But, you know, since I locked him up in his bedroom to sweat those toxins out of system he's started taking me a little more seriously."

Sayid nodded, impressed. "Is he clean now?"

"He hasn't popped a pill since the weekend!" he said, beaming like a proud teacher. "I used the old _'Ask me for your drugs three times'_ technique and in the end Jack flushed them down the pan himself. He's still sick, but I've got him eating again. Lots of bananas. Those were my staple on the island. Jack just needs to stop being a crybaby and remember he's our heroic leader, right?"

Sayid frowned slightly, wondering why Charlie still required Jack to be their leader now that their island days were over.

"What about Sun and Kate?" he inquired.

Charlie's smile quickly faded and was replaced by a pensive frown. He lifted his guitar once more and hugged it to his chest.

"I don't visit them," he answered tightly.

"And why not?" Sayid pressed.

Charlie shifted uncomfortably. "Sun has enough on her plate with the baby and her husband not being there. Believe me, Sayid, I am the last person that Sun would want visiting her. It's best if I just leave her alone."

Sayid frowned in confusion. "But I thought you and Sun were friends. I often saw the two of you taking care of Aaron together…"

Charlie squirmed in his seat, wincing as if he had been pricked with a sharp knife. Sayid realised the name that had prompted this reaction.

"I suppose that is the reason you won't see Kate…"

"It isn't right, Sayid…" he muttered, bitterly. "Claire and Aaron were supposed to be rescued together. They're meant to be _together_."

"I know," he answered solemnly. "I'm sorry."

Sayid sighed, remembering how dearly Charlie had loved the young girl and her baby and knowing there was no consolatory words he could offer him now. He watched as Charlie struggled to master himself, closing his eyes tight and letting his guitar strings twang in harsh tuneless notes. It was then that Sayid knew that Charlie must be real. He was still the same man who had wiped blood out of his eyes and asked Sayid to burn gunpowder into his forehead so he could bring the baby back to Claire.

"Enough about them," Charlie said suddenly, opening his eyes. "It's _you_ we've got to concentrate on now, Sayid. You're the one who needs my help the most. I'm glad you've come to me at last. I was getting worried..."

"I only came to say goodbye," Sayid answered, curtly. "I botched my last mission. These people who Ben has been sending me to assassinate; they know I'm after them now. Ben doesn't seem to care. It's only a matter a time before they capture me, torture me for information…and then kill me."

"It's not gonna happen, Sayid. I'm going to protect you."

Sayid smiled faintly. There was a time when such a statement from Charlie would have elicited a reaction of cynicism and amusement. But the plucky Englishman had earned his respect long before he had taken the mission to swim down to the Looking Glass. Even so he could not accept his compassion.

"You can't protect me, Charlie," he said firmly, his voice hardening. "You know who I work for. The man who ordered your death no less! You ought to consider me a traitor. Why would you even _want_ to protect me?"

Charlie shrugged and then smiled again.

"Maybe because once upon a time somebody protected me," answered Charlie, his voice lowering to a murmur. "He didn't save my life because he was obliged to. He saved me because he cared…and because he knew it was right."

Charlie's eyes grew sombre and wistful as he spoke of his old protector. Sayid could guess who he was referring to, though he had never truly been able to fathom the connection between the two Brits.

Sayid lapsed into silence. He found he was missing Desmond too.

* * *

_The Kahana, 2004… _

In the minutes following their phone call to London, Sayid and Desmond had been discovered in the radio room with the dead body of Minkowski at their feet. Keamy and Omar had roughly escorted them back to the sick bay and locked them inside a vacant room without a word of explanation.

Sayid hadn't put up much resistance against the crewmen. He was more concerned by Desmond's precarious condition. The Scotsman was calmer and more lucid following the call to his old girlfriend. He was still dazed and stumbling, but at least he gave a smile of recognition when Sayid caught his arm and steadied him. They waited an hour in the sick bay before Frank visited them with a gift of tinned lima beans. He asked them to sit tight and Sayid was willing to relent, considering that Desmond needed to rest while he needed to think.

Sayid had sat in the cold metal chair in the chilled room listening to the groan of machinery below him and the clanking pipes up above. Desmond didn't stir at these noises. The Scotsman lay sprawling outside the covers, his large bare feet twitching at the end of the bed and his sleeping face creased with a frown. Sayid considered that Desmond had to be exhausted by these mysterious _'side effects'_ he had suffered with, not to mention the overwhelming emotion of contacting Penelope. And it was still little more than a day since he had witnessed the death of Charlie Pace. Sayid felt a deep concern for this man who he had barely known long enough to call his friend. He listened to Desmond's raspy breathing. He couldn't be sure, but it sounded like he was whispering the name _'Penny'_ in his sleep.

Suddenly Desmond's spell of peace was broken. His back arched and a cry escaped his lips. Sayid hurried over to his bedside.

"No…_no_!" Desmond murmured; his voice fierce and pleading. "Don't shut the door. You don't have to do this…I'll change it…I can still change it!"

Sayid hesitated for a moment, wondering if he should wait for the fit to pass or wake him from his nightmare. He saw tears gathering in the corners of Desmond's eyes. He reached down and shook him briskly by the shoulders. The Scotsman sat bolt upright on the mattress. His eyes were wide with confusion as he scrabbled back from Sayid, barring his teeth like a cornered animal.

"Who are you?!" he hissed apprehensively. "Where's Kelvin?!"

Before Sayid could remind him of his name and ask him who an earth Kelvin was, Desmond sprang from the bed and darted towards the locked door. His hand grasped the handle and rattled it. He cursed beneath his breath.

"_Locked_!" he muttered to himself. "He never lets me go outside. Where is it he goes on all those walks, eh? No wait…I remember..."

Desmond turned around very slowly to face Sayid. His clothes were hanging off his lean frame, his ragged blue shirt mostly unbuttoned. His hair and beard were in a state of wild disarray. He was a walking scarecrow of a man.

"Are…are you _him_?" he asked in a tense halting voice.

Sayid winced and took him gently by the arm.

"Desmond…please sit down…" he begged in softer tones.

"What did one snowman say to the other snowman?" Desmond asked mechanically as he allowed himself to be steered back to the bed.

Once Sayid had him sitting on the mattress he reached for the crumpled photo on the table and placed it in Desmond's trembling hands.

"Do you remember this woman?" Sayid asked him.

Desmond frowned for a moment before his face broke into a tearful smile.

"Aye…_Penny,_" he answered, nodding rapidly.

"Do you remember talking with her only a few hours ago?"

Desmond gasped, rocking a little as the relief swept over him.

"She…she answered!" he confirmed to Sayid. "She still cares about me. She said that she has been trying to find me all these years. She knows about the island…she spoke to Charlie and that was when she knew…"

Desmond's sentence trailed into silence. He raised his eyes from the photograph to meet Sayid's worried stare. The colour was draining from his face. It seemed another memory had only just returned to him.

"I'm sorry, brother…" he stammered. "I…I tried to save him. I tried to change it. But no matter what I tried to do…"

"It wasn't your fault," Sayid said quickly.

"I'm sorry…" Desmond repeated.

Sayid swallowed hard, realising to his shame that he had put Charlie's death out of his mind. There had been no time to mourn or honour their lost friend who had given his life for a chance of rescue. It occurred to him that he still had no clear idea what had happened to Charlie. When Desmond had returned from the Looking Glass he could only stutter and ramble that Charlie was gone and he was sorry, but that his last act had been to write _'Not Penny's Boat'_ on his hand. Given the mission to the underwater station, they had all assumed Charlie to have drowned. Nobody wanted to pester Desmond for details with Hurley sitting close by; a still boulder of hardening grief. But it was a matter that still troubled Sayid. He pulled up a chair beside the bed and rested his cheek against his hand.

"Desmond, do you remember how Charlie died?" he asked.

The Scotsman looked blank for a moment; then slowly he nodded.

"I was in the kitchen hut. It had just started to rain. I saw Charlie running for cover under Claire's shelter. Then the lightning hit the roof. He just…fell down twitching in the sand. I ran over to him, but…it was too late."

Sayid lifted his head, blinking with confusion. The scenario Desmond had just described made no sense to him.

"What are you talking about?" he asked sharply. "I thought Charlie drowned?"

Desmond cringed. He squeezed his eyes closed, searching his scrambled memories. He released a breath and nodded again.

"Aye, I remember now. He saw Claire struggling in the water. She was calling for help. Charlie dove in to save her, but…the current was too strong. It pulled him under. We just…we couldn't reach him in time…"

Sayid shook his head, his concern mounting.

"Desmond _you_ dove in after Claire," he said, remembering that morning on the beach when the young mother had come close to drowning.

Desmond's eyes widened, a realisation dawning on his face.

"I dove in myself so Charlie never went in!" he exclaimed, as if Sayid had triggered a memory. "Maybe I keep seeing Charlie die because I'm supposed to take his place? Maybe if I take his place I can stop this!"

Desmond looked dizzied and desperate. He was swaying on the edge of the bed. Sayid grasped him by the shoulders to stop him falling.

"Desmond, it's too late," Sayid told him, his voice hoarse and anguished. "You can't save Charlie now. He died in the Looking Glass."

Desmond screwed his eyes up, a sweat breaking on his brow.

"Penny was there," he murmured. "I saw her face on the screen. Charlie was talking to her and then…he shut the door on me. He stopped the flood. Then he wrote on his hand 'Not Penny's Boat'…_Not Penny's Boat_…"

Desmond raised a hand and swiped at his nostrils.

"I failed…" he added despondently. "Now I'm gonna die too…"

Sayid took hold of his wrist, pulling his hand away.

"Your nose isn't bleeding anymore Desmond," he assured him. "Come on. Open your eyes. Keep looking at her photograph…"

Desmond blinked and panted, staring down at the picture that was lying in his lap. Sayid gently eased the Scotsman back onto the mattress. He propped Penny's picture upright on the bedside table where he could see it clearly. He asked Desmond again to try to get some rest, knowing that there would be other pressing issues to deal with in the morning. He advised him to look at the photo if he felt panicked or disorientated. It seemed the only thing that could stabilise him.

"Aye…I'll do that, brother…" Desmond agreed faintly. "That way even if I do die…her face will be the last thing I see..."

* * *

_Los Angeles, 2007… _

While Charlie repeated the notes of his new song, Sayid reached into his pocket and took out a photograph of his own. It was a picture of a woman whose face was closely shrouded by her black hijab. Sayid had been carrying her picture with him for years, maybe as long as Desmond had carried his photograph of Penelope. The edges of the picture were charred from the explosion in Rousseau's shelter. Savage burns to match the smouldering fire in Nadia's eyes and the acid scars which Sayid knew covered the skin beneath those dark robes. Her image had haunted Sayid everywhere he went, yet he still clung to her photograph like a talisman.

"Christ! You and Desmond must have gotten along like a house on fire," said Charlie, ceasing his strumming pattern. "You're both photo junkies!"

"Well Charlie, there are worse things to be addicted to," Sayid retorted.

"I don't know about that, Sayid. I survived the heroin, remember? It was love that finished me off. So who's your mystery girl then?"

Sayid exhaled and handed him the picture.

"Her name was Nadia…" he said softly.

Charlie winced a little, noting his use of the past tense. Then he squinted down at the picture in his hand and his face suddenly broke into a smile.

"Yeah, I know this bird," he said, brightly.

Sayid frowned. "Excuse me?"

"I met her in London years ago," Charlie tipped his head to one side, a nostalgic gleam in his eyes. "She was my Greatest Hit number 2."

Sayid raised an eyebrow. "Charlie, I sincerely hope you're not implying what I think you're implying…" he began, though he was already struggling with the idea of his old school friend being a Driveshaft groupie.

Charlie shook his head, smiling. "I helped her out of a spot of bother with a mugger. I still remember her face, because…well, it was one of the few noteworthy moments in my sorry little life. She said I was a hero."

Sayid smiled. Nadia always saw the truth in people.

"What does it say here on the back?" asked Charlie, who was now examining the Arabic inscription on the flipside of the photo.

"You'll find me in the next life, if not in this one…" Sayid answered.

"Oh, I see," Charlie said cordially. "Well, that's good."

"Is it?" Sayid said sharply. "I'm not so sure I believe it anymore."

"Hey mate…just look at who you're talking to!"

Charlie grinned beatifically at him, seeming almost haughty about his inexplicable _'dead, but here' _presence. Sayid seethed with frustration.

"I don't know what you _are_, Charlie! My best guess is you are proof I am completely losing my mind. Would you care to tell me differently?"

Charlie raised his hands in a pacifying gesture.

"Okay listen Sayid, I know this must be freaking you out," he conceded. "But I can explain everything! How about I tell you on the way?"

He frowned. "On the way to where?"

"I'll tell you why I'm here…on our way to see Ben."

Sayid blinked several times, scarcely believing what he was hearing.

"I'm not taking you to see Ben, Charlie," he said resolutely. "Ben wants you dead."

Charlie shrugged innocently. "Well, I am dead."

"Apparently you are not dead enough for his liking," he hinted.

"Penny Widmore has got herself a rescue boat..."

Sayid flinched, startled by this abrupt statement. Charlie hunched forward in his seat, his face becoming very serious.

"Do you know how many years it has been, Sayid? Do you realise how long Penny has been waiting to see Desmond again? Well now she knows how to find him. She's got the co-ordinates she needs and she's going to rescue her man. She knows that you and the rest of the Oceanic 6 have been lying through your teeth because I answered her transmission and I told her they were alive. The least you can do now is help her to save our friends. Jack and Hurley are ready. They reckon Kate will come too if I ask her. It's time to go back, Sayid. They need you."

Sayid was already shaking his head, alarmed by this suggestion. Tears of frustration were welling in his eyes and slowly sliding down his face.

"That is out of the question, Charlie! None of us can go back to that island. The only way we can protect our friends is by keeping the island a secret. That is all we can do for them, Charlie. All we can do…"

"_Bollocks_!" Charlie snapped at him.

Charlie's eyes were blazing and his fists were bunched tight on his knees. This was something Sayid hadn't seen in a long time; good old furious and righteous Charlie Pace anger. He rose to his feet and Sayid thought he seemed taller than he used to, though he was sure this had nothing to do with an increase in height.

"Let's get one thing straight, Sayid," Charlie began; his voice steady despite his wrath. "I didn't swim down to that bloody station and drown in a tiny locked room so that six of you could lead pathetic miserable lives off the island while the rest of those poor buggers are kept prisoner there forever!"

Sayid took a breath, feeling like he had just been slapped in the face.

"Two words for you, Sayid," said Charlie. "_Man up_! Now I'm going to get my coat and then we're going to pay a little visit to Benjamin Linus."

Obviously not prepared to debate the issue any longer Charlie turned on his heels and marched into his bedroom to get his jacket. Sayid raised his hands and quickly wiped the tears from his cheeks. When his fingers brushed his face he was somewhat surprise to find the corners of his mouth were turned upright.

He hadn't had cause to smile for a long time.

TBC...


	2. Chapter 2

**Warnings**: Character deaths!! Spoilers up to S4, ep8.

**Authors Note**: Thanks again to elliotsmelliot who gave the second part of this story a hugely beneficial betaing. After the positive response to Part 1 (thank you lovely readers!) I didn't want Part 2 to fall short of your expectations. It all gets a little epic from here on in...major character deaths and everything! You have been warned.

* * *

_Los Angeles, 2007_

Sayid took the key card from his pocket and swiped open the double doors that led into the reception of the animal hospital. Among his numerous forged documents Ben possessed a very credible veterinary licence and so these humble clinics had become their customary meeting places. Whilst Ben had a cold contemptuous attitude towards his fellow human beings he seemed curiously fond of animals. Sayid would often wander into the surgery to find Ben petting one of the rabbits against his chest and whispering softly into their long white ears.

The dogs were all silent in their cages. Their dark brown eyes were fixed on Charlie as if mesmerised by him. They didn't seem frightened, but it appeared that they too sensed the unusual power in him. Charlie simply grinned at them and reached out to stroke the tips of their snuffling wet noses.

"Ready?" asked Charlie, turning around again.

Sayid nodded. He didn't like this situation one bit, but his friend was apparently relishing it. Charlie took a black hood from his pocket, pulled it over his own head and then crossed his wrists together behind his back. Sayid grasped the sleeves of his leather jacket and marched him down the corridor towards Ben's office. Charlie had insisted that these theatrics would make the confrontation all the more fun. Sayid was perplexed at why he took such amusement in meeting the man who ordered his death, but Charlie had often told him that humour wasn't his strong suit. Sayid supposed in this case he would have to bow to the expert.

It was a little after 2am but Ben was still awake, sitting behind his desk and pouring over papers with his owlish spectacles perched on the end of his nose. As they barged into his office Ben dropped his pen, his mouth bobbing like a fish. Sayid forced his hooded prisoner into the chair before him.

"Who in God's name is this?!" Ben snapped, his eyes ballooning with rage.

"A witness," said Sayid, gasping for breath, "…a witness to my last assassination. He recognised me as one of the Oceanic 6. I saw it in his face. I had to take him captive in order to preserve the secrecy of our mission…"

"Why didn't you just shoot him?" Ben interrupted.

Sayid narrowed his eyes on his boss, still breathing heavily. "He's a civilian. He has nothing to do with our enemies. He was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. You told me that we don't kill innocents…"

Ben snorted condescendingly as he rose to his feet and rounded the desk. "Yes, that is our usual policy, Sayid, but when it comes to a choice between one man's life and our entire mission falling apart we have to make sacrifices for the greater good. I trust that you remember what is at stake here?"

Sayid nodded, though he wasn't going to be swayed this time.

"You tell me I must to kill in order to protect my friends. But my friends are hardly _protected_ on that island. They need to be rescued."

Ben shook his head. "I'm sorry…are you delirious, Sayid? You shouldn't have even been embarking on your next mission yet! I told you to rest and wait until your wound was healed. If you had only listened to my instructions then you wouldn't have ended up with more innocent blood on your hands."

"I'm not killing this man, Ben…"

His lips tightened. "Well, if you don't then I will."

At this moment Ben stretched out a hand and ripped the hood from Charlie's head. Sayid knew Charlie had been looking forward to seeing the expression on Ben's face and he had to confess that it was quite a picture. The colour seeped from his cheeks almost instantly while his pupils shrank to pinpricks. There was a moment of absolute silence while Ben simply stared at the man in the chair. Charlie reclined in his seat, a large Cheshire cat grin spreading over his face. He took his hands from behind his back and laced them behind his head.

"Hi there," he said pleasantly.

Ben shook his head as if trying to deny the evidence of his own eyes.

"You're _dead_," he hissed exasperated.

Charlie shrugged. "Yeah, but I'm still here," he said mildly. "Though I'll admit the drowning slowed me down for a while."

"No, no…" Ben muttered, still shaking. "The island wouldn't have saved you. You weren't on the list. You're not one of the good ones."

Sayid felt something snap inside of him.

"Who are you to judge the goodness in people, Ben?" he questioned. "Whatever we have done in our former lives, what gave you, of all people, the right to terrorise us, kidnap us and lump us into lists of good and bad? You sent one of your henchmen down to the Looking Glass station and ordered him to murder two women on your own side and an unarmed man who had only been attempting to help his friends. What gives you the right to judge us?!"

When referencing this incident Sayid didn't know what made him angrier; the cruel deaths of the victims or the fact that Ben had ordered another man to do his dirty work for him, probably under the delusion that those senseless executions were necessary sacrifices for what Ben called 'the greater good'.

Ben set his jaw firmly. "Lest you forget, Sayid, I was the one who tried to warn your people of what would come contacting that boat…"

His eyes illuminated as though he believed he had hit upon the clinching argument that would give him the upper hand in this feud.

"You think you're some sort of hero, Charlie Pace?" he sneered turning to the man in the chair. "If it hadn't been for you unblocking the radio signals then those people on the Freighter would never have come to the island and your friends wouldn't be facing the peril they are in now. Innocents have been slain, Charlie. Lives have been ripped apart. Your precious Claire has lost her child who is now being raised by a criminal. And all because of your sad delusions of grandeur..."

Charlie's smile faded from his lips though his eyes remained brazen and held Ben's stare without quaking. Sayid was impressed that Charlie didn't flinch at the mention of Claire's name. He knew Charlie was still sensitive over the young mother and her baby, though he was careful not to show it.

Ben smiled, obviously believing he had scored a victory. "Personally I think that fate had the right idea trying to rid you from the universe before you caused this mess. The world is better off purged of your incompetence…"

"That's enough!" Sayid growled.

He grasped Ben by the collar and slammed him hard against the desk. Ben didn't even wince. The little man was very resilient to punches and did not fear them. He knew he could inflict more pain with his words.

"I'll make this simple," Sayid began, keeping his voice calm and not allowing Ben to interrupt him. "We are returning to the island. There will be no more missions and no more assassinations…save for one."

Ben rolled his eyes. "You've had so many chances to kill me, Sayid. You and the rest of your people. Forgive me if I don't start trembling in my…"

"I wasn't speaking of your death," said Sayid, cutting through his waspish remarks. "I know now that it would be pointless even attempting to kill you. However you will be accompanying us on our last mission."

"And what mission is that?" Ben asked inquisitively.

"Our mission to bring an end to the island itself."

Sayid knew there was only one way to finish this and that was by meeting their destinies head on as Charlie had done. The island wouldn't allow them to kill themselves or each other before they had returned. It wanted all of its strays to come back and submit to its master plan. Sayid was prepared to yield to its will, but he had also vowed that he would see the fate machine dismantled before the end.

Ben snorted again, though his hands were rattling against the tabletop.

"You have no idea what you are dealing with, Sayid…" he said, his voice wavering. "You seriously think you could overpower the island?"

"Maybe he won't need to overpower it," Charlie suggested.

Ben turned his head and scowled at Charlie, perhaps wishing that the heat of his glare could somehow incinerate him.

"I'm sorry…what did you say?" he sniped.

Charlie raised his shoulders in another shrug. "Maybe the island also knows when it's time to make sacrifices for the greater good…" he hinted.

Ben swallowed. "What do you know of the island?"

"We know what the island can provide," said Sayid, bringing Ben's attention back to him. "We know why it is a secret that must be guarded from the rest of the world. We know why your people fought to keep it for yourselves. We know why rich men, late in life, seek to obtain it. We know why it is the bounty of both men of science and men of faith. We know what may be gained through its unique properties…"

While Sayid spoke, Ben eyes were flicking towards Charlie, who was still slouching in the office chair. He had picked up the black hood from the floor, placed it over his hand and was now playing with it as though it were a little glove puppet of the Grim Reaper. Charlie wasn't contributing much to their confrontation, but then he didn't really need to say anything to make a point.

"What…what do you believe the island provides?" said Ben. His voice was already faltering as he paled in dismay.

"What else, Ben?" said Sayid. "_Resurrection_."

* * *

_The Kahana, 2004_

Sayid recognised the handwriting instantly. He knew this stark black calligraphy from his very first night on the island. He had been sitting in front of his signal fire beside the young Englishman who had helped him to build it. Charlie had sat hunching over his hands, his face shadowed by the drooping hood of his sweatshirt. In those same bold black letters he had written the word FATE on a row of plasters tapped around his fingers. Sayid had felt at the time that the word was a dark omen for all of them. Three months later he was certain of it.

The handwriting was there again on the note Desmond was holding. He was leaning against the metal railing at the stern of the ship. Sayid approached him silently from behind. When he saw Desmond was clasping something in his hands, he had at first assumed it to be his photograph of Penny. But no; it was a small sheet of lined paper that was covered with Charlie's print.

"What is that?" Sayid asked, troubled by the sight.

Desmond flinched, quickly stowing the note in his shirt pocket.

"Nothing…" he muttered, evasively. He sighed at length, making it clear he wished to change the subject. "Where do you suppose Frank has gone?"

"He's running some errand to the island from what I'm led to believe," Sayid replied blandly. "I think that Keamy went with him."

"Right." Desmond lowered his voice. "Do you think we can trust Frank, brother? I mean, I've a rotten feeling about that captain and some of his men. But Frank…he seems like a decent bloke, wouldn't you say?"

Sayid gave a non-committal shrug. He found he was reluctant to trust anyone these days, though he had to admit that Frank had been fair and level with them so far. He sensed nothing sinister beneath his surface.

"Maybe…maybe Frank has gone on his helicopter to rescue Claire and her baby," Desmond suggested, out of the blue.

Sayid frowned. "Why would Frank do that?"

Desmond shifted uncomfortably.

"Well brother…a young mother and her child. If there's a chance of any of us being rescued they should be our first priority, yeah?"

"Yes, I agree," said Sayid, regarding him with suspicion. "I'm sure Charlie would've wanted them saved," he added pointedly.

Those words were enough to make Desmond crumble.

"You've no idea, brother…" he murmured.

In strained whispers Desmond recounted his prophecy that had convinced Charlie to take the Looking Glass mission, though he knew it would lead to his drowning. Sayid has already deduced from Desmond's nightly ravings that he had been seeing visions of Charlie's death, but it wasn't until now that it all fell into place and Sayid realised what Charlie had done for the sake of their rescue.

"Desmond…that note you were reading before…the note in your pocket…was that something that Charlie wrote?" he asked.

Desmond nodded. "He wrote it for Claire," he confessed guiltily. "It's some sort of list…a list of his fondest memories I think..."

"And why haven't you given it to her?"

Desmond swallowed. "There wasn't time. I didn't get the chance. Hurley didn't want me talking to her. Then they were both moving off with Locke..." He exhaled heavily. "Because I'm a coward…" he revised.

"Give it to Claire the next time you see her," Sayid suggested. "But Desmond…we can't bring Claire and Aaron onto this boat. Not with all this business of side effects and cabin fever. Charlie wouldn't want it. "

"It's not enough though," Desmond hissed in frustration. "It's not what he gave his life for. I gave Charlie my word they would be rescued!"

Desmond fell silent, staring over the vast expanse of the ocean. Somewhere beneath the deep rippling blue was Charlie's watery tomb; never to be marked, never to be visited. _There should have been a funeral_, thought Sayid, _there should have been something_. Charlie deserved something.

Sayid hadn't found time to pray during the past days. Now his body and clothes were unclean and he had no idea which direction it was to Mecca, but he bowed his head and began to pray all the same. After a moment he sensed Desmond falling into a prayer of his own. It wasn't enough. It couldn't bring their friend back or make his sacrifice worthwhile. But it was something.

"So you're a religious man, brother?" asked Desmond, when they had both finally raised their heads. "You know the last time I saw Charlie...he was shut in that control room, surrounded by water. He wasn't struggling or anything. He didn't seem afraid. Before I turned away I saw him lift his arm and he…he made the sign of the cross. I guess he had faith his sacrifice would work."

Sayid didn't say a word, inviting Desmond to continue.

"For a long time…when I was having those flashes of his death…I thought it was a _test_," Desmond contemplated. "Like God tested Abraham, you know…asking him to sacrifice the life of an innocent. But maybe it wasn't my test at all. Maybe I was only a prophet and this was Charlie's test. Maybe the island chose him to be our saviour." Desmond snorted a grim laugh. "Listen, I know he didn't look too much like Jesus, but do you take my meaning, brother?"

Sayid nodded, but remained silent. He didn't wish to dispute their differing religions. After all in the Islamic faith Jesus himself was considered only a prophet, an ordinary man who was chosen to work as Gods messenger and to guide the children of Israel. As a Muslim man he also believed that Jesus was never crucified, but was raised up alive into heaven and will return at the end of time.

Sayid and Desmond stared over the sea together. They needed more than preaching and philosophy now. They needed something to heal their faiths.

They needed something to believe in.

* * *

_The Island, 2007_

Sayid wandered alone through the jungle. There was barely a sound to be heard now besides the soft croaking of the tree frogs, the music of the wind and the airy whispers that no longer disturbed him. He had forgotten how beautiful the island was. He could imagine this place had once been an Eden to its early inhabitants. Now its paradise was lost to brutality and corruption. There was nothing left for the island now save for its final purge; its Judgement Day.

Sayid met Charlie in the shade of the mango grove. Charlie hadn't accompanied them on Penny's boat, but apparently he had other ways and means of travelling between the island and the mainland. It seemed his resurrection had afforded him a certain liberty from the usual binds of time and space.

As they came together beneath the shadow of the trees, Charlie's eyes fell on the gun that was hanging limply in Sayid's hand.

"Ben's dead," Sayid informed him in hollow tones.

Charlie nodded and did not question the matter, though Sayid felt a strange compulsion to tell him that Ben's end had not been at his hands. When the rescue team had reached the island and split up into search parties Sayid had taken the role of Ben's warden. He and his ex-boss had ventured into the jungle together. He had wanted to keep Ben away from his friends and had been prepared to kill the man if necessary…but the grim duty had been taken from him by another.

When Danielle Rousseau had stepped out of the jungle, Sayid realised that it wasn't his part to deal out judgement to Ben. He had heard the French woman had been shot and killed not long before he left the island, but it didn't surprise him to see her. Ben had whimpered with despair when Sayid delivered him into Danielle's charge. Some moments later, whilst he had been walking away, Sayid had heard a roaring noise behind him and a rumbling that shook the trees.

He shuddered, putting all thoughts of those noises out of his mind.

"Did Jack and Kate manage to find Claire?" asked Sayid.

"Yeah, they found her…" said Charlie, his voice almost breathless with relief. "They found her two days ago. She was camping in the Arrow station. She's been through a really rough time of it, but seeing Aaron again brought her back to herself. Hurley led them out of the jungle yesterday. They met up with Desmond and Penny on the beach and took the first helicopter out to the boat."

Sayid smiled tightly, feeling his heart swell at this news.

"Claire and Aaron got on their rescue helicopter," he said emphatically.

"Yeah…" Charlie affirmed, "…better late than never, hey?"

Charlie's eyes were pink and glimmering. His loved ones were saved. His dying quest was at last fulfilled. Sayid hadn't truly realised the burden that Charlie had been carrying until he saw him relieved of it.

"Did you speak to Claire before she left?" he asked tentatively.

Charlie blushed. "No. No, she didn't see me. I asked the others not to tell her. I just watched the helicopter lift off from the tree line." He sighed. "I've said goodbye to them once, Sayid. I can't do it again."

Sayid nodded with respectful understanding, though it still saddened him to think of Charlie lurking in the shadows, a silent unseen witness to the rescue which he had worked so determinedly to secure.

"So where are Jack and Kate now?" Sayid asked.

Charlie swallowed, his expression darkening.

"They're dead, Sayid…" he answered, his voice soft and consoling. "It…it happened soon after daybreak this morning. They were together."

Sayid closed his eyes, his throat constricting as he let the news sink its claws into his skin. He found himself feeling saddened, but not surprised by these deaths. Part of him had expected it. Jack had insisted on taking the mission to the source of the island; to the station that would allow them close off the portals that linked it to the rest of the world. He imagined that Kate had insisted on going with him. He knew it had been a dangerous task, likely to claim their lives. But there was something more than that; between Jack losing his medical license, Kate breaking her parole and the burden of guilt they had long been carrying he had the feeling that they had chosen to die here. And they would not be the only ones.

"Sawyer laid them to rest in the caves," Charlie added.

Sayid nodded, feeling comforted that they had been given their last rites, though he winced at this mention of their undertaker.

"Is Sawyer staying behind?" he asked.

"No…no Claire's talked him into leaving," said Charlie. "Sawyer's been taking care of Claire since you guys left; making sure she survives through each day. Claire made him promise that if they ever got the chance to leave this place, then he would take it. Apparently he's got a kid out there too…"

Sayid frowned wondering how Charlie felt about Sawyer taking care of Claire. In life Charlie had been very possessive of his role as her protector. Now it seemed he was simply content with the idea of her being protected.

"Sawyer's heading down to the beach now," Charlie continued. "He'll be getting the last chopper out with Juliet…and Jin."

Sayid felt another wave of relief sweep over him. Sun had been the only member of the Oceanic 6 who had not returned to the island on account of her infant baby. Sun had however been informed of their plans and they had promised that if her husband still lived they would bring him back to her.

"Can't…can't you go with them, Charlie?" Sayid suggested hopefully.

Charlie smiled solemnly and shook his head.

"No can do, Sayid," he answered. "You know the score. My whole _being here_ is dependant on this place. Now it's all coming to an end. They'll be no more here and there for me. After that last helicopter passes beyond the barrier, it won't be much longer before the island's portals close up. That means no more ill-fated travellers being sucked in…and no resurrected dead people getting out."

Sayid swallowed. "Is anyone else staying?"

"Well, Locke naturally," said Charlie. "The captain always goes down with his ship, right? The last I saw of Locke he was heading off to the temple. Rose and Bernard are staying too. They've moved into the little love shack you built at the end of the beach. I told them you wouldn't mind. I think there might still be one or two Others kicking around, but hopefully they'll be more docile now the fight is over. And, of course, the dead have plenty of company here…"

"But what will happen to the island after the portals close?"

Charlie squinted, tilting his head to the side.

"I'm not sure exactly. I guess we'll have to wait and see. I'm imagining something like a black hole. You know…black holes like they have in space?"

"Yes Charlie, I know what a black hole is."

"Right. Well, when a star collapses it creates a sort of vacuum, doesn't it? Anything that falls beyond its horizon can't escape. Only now the vacuum is being sealed. God knows what'll happen after that. Maybe the island will shrink into nothingness. Or maybe it will carry on existing in its own little bubble." He shrugged. "I don't really understand all this sciency crap."

"Whatever happens, it's over now," Sayid said flatly. "If you'll excuse me I don't wish to wait around for any more answers."

Charlie blinked at him, seeming perplexed and concerned. Sayid gave him a severe glance which he hoped Charlie would take as a dismissal, a request to leave him in peace now that he had done all he had asked.

Sayid turned his back on his friend and sank to his knees, tightening his grip on the pistol that would soon be firing its last shot. Sayid knew that suicide was a sin. He knew that he should wait for Allah to grant him mercy. But Sayid reasoned that he wasn't really killing himself. He was killing the man that Ben had moulded him into. He was killing a man who was no better than the merciless assassin responsible for drowning Charlie; no better than any one of Ben's servants who he had ordered to terrorise a group of plane crash victims for a misguided belief that it was essential to their cause. Sayid was killing a man who he despised and who he felt deserved nothing better. He cocked the gun and teased at its trigger...

Sayid bowed his head, hoping that Charlie had left him now. He wasn't worried about whether this would hurt. He couldn't imagine anything worse than the pain he was already carrying in his heart; the savage bird inside his ribcage that longed only for release. He reached into his pocket and slowly drew out his picture of Nadia. He was remembering what Desmond had said that night on the Freighter when he had gazed on Penny's picture and declared that he wanted her face to be the last thing he saw before he died. Sayid understood this need only too well.

"Sayid…" said Charlie, sounding nervous behind him. "Get off your knees will you, mate. I'm not gonna let you shoot yourself."

Sayid raised his head, regarding Charlie with bitterness.

"I've nothing left to live for," he stated, his voice desperate. "There is no other way I can make peace with what I've done. No way to wash the blood from my hands. Would you deny me the right to choose this, Charlie?"

"Well no…I guess not…" he admitted, regretfully. "That would be rather hypocritical of me. But not this way, Sayid…not this way..."

Charlie crouched beside him and took the gun from his hands, quickly emptying it of shells and throwing it into the nearby bushes. Then he reached down and took hold of Sayid's hand, pulling him to his feet and leading him into the jungle. Sayid allowed himself to be tugged along, keeping his head down and his eyes fixed on his photo. He soon felt the ground sloping upwards beneath his feet. It seemed that Charlie was leading him up to a clifftop. Sayid hoped that once they came to the summit Charlie would be kind enough push him over the brink.

"Sayid," said Charlie when they reached the plateau. "Look up."

Sayid frowned, obeying the command.

When he raised his head the sight before his eyes was a women standing on the verge of the cliff. She was dressed in black robes, her headscarf stirring with the wind. Nadia. His Nadia. She was wrapped in the colour of death, but Sayid did not fear her. She was a vision of beauty and mystery to him.

"How…how is she here?" he gasped.

"You brought her here, Sayid. And so did I."

Sayid glanced down at his photograph and thought again of Charlie's list which had featured Nadia amongst his greatest memories. Sayid opened his mouth to question this miracle further, but Charlie cut him off with a curt nod and a silencing smile. He started making his way down the slope, leaving Sayid alone on the cliff. It seemed Charlie had finished his dealings with him and was off to find someone else to talk to in the jungle…maybe Jack and Kate.

Sayid turned back to where Nadia was standing. Her dark smouldering eyes spoke of her old vow. _You'll find me in the next life, if not in this one…_

Sayid held her stare and walked towards her, feeling like a weary traveller that was finally returning to his home door. Nadia raised her hand to his face and then lightly brushed her lips against his in a whisper of a kiss which told him that he was a hero and not to let anyone tell him differently. Sayid buried his head in the soft dark folds of her dress. The wind swayed them where they stood on the edge of the cliff. Sayid felt his soul growing lighter, giddy almost...

When his feet left the ground it wasn't like he was falling. More like he was taking flight. And when his body struck the waves below him, it wasn't a sensation like drowning. It was a blessing…a splash of holy water against his face that could heal him, cleanse him and restore him to life...

_The End_


End file.
